


A Tale of Two Hearts

by Aneiria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Admissions, Getting Together, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Era, M/M, Romance, ace Blaise, asexual Blaise, hiding in the greenhouses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26302120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneiria/pseuds/Aneiria
Summary: ‘So, what,’ Neville said, curiosity colouring his words. ‘You don’t like girls?’Blaise laughed shortly and looked away from Neville’s beautiful hands, staring blindly out of the greenhouse windows.If only Neville had any idea of the truth.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 2
Kudos: 84
Collections: Harry Potter Ace Fest 2020





	A Tale of Two Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: ace!Blaise is trying to hide in the greenhouse away from all the other students, where he meets Neville... a getting together fic.
> 
> Huge thanks to Highlyintelligentblonde and ThunderofDragons for giving this a sensitivity read and also for catching my grammar mistakes - your time and energy is really appreciated 💖
> 
> Thank you to the mods for running the fest as well, and thank YOU, dear reader, for coming along to read this fic 💖

It was a mild, mellow afternoon in late April when Blaise Zabini pulled open the door to greenhouse ten, cursing under his breath as the hinges creaked, and slipped into the hot, humid air. He ducked down behind a Wiggentree sapling, staying quiet as the giggling shrieks of a gaggle of seventh year girls went past.

When the coast was clear and Blaise straightened up and looked around the greenhouse, he couldn’t help jumping slightly when he realised he wasn’t alone.

Neville Longbottom was standing in front of a tray of plants, a pair of pruning shears in his hands. Blaise gulped at the sight of Neville. He’d grown into himself in the past year, with his broad shoulders, sandy hair, and kind brown eyes. 

‘Zabini,’ Neville greeted him carefully. They’d never really been friends, Blaise and Neville, even if Blaise had hidden him from the Carrows that one time in seventh year. ‘What brings you to the greenhouses?’

‘I’m hiding,’ Blaise finally admitted, inspecting his perfectly manicured nails as if unperturbed to find himself skulking away in a greenhouse. ‘From some of the girls. They’re determined to get me to Madam Puddifoot’s next weekend for the Hogsmeade visit.’

Blaise gave Neville’s nails a once-over. Sure enough, they were short and stubby and grimed with dirt from the plants he tended. They were nice hands, though, Blaise noted idly. He watched now as Neville gently pruned back the vicious-looking Venomous Tentacula that shook its leaves towards Neville in a threatening manner. 

‘Oh, hush,’ Neville softly chided the dangerous plant, before turning back to Blaise.

‘So, what,’ Neville said, curiosity colouring his words. ‘You don’t like girls?’ 

Blaise laughed shortly and looked away from Neville’s beautiful hands, staring blindly out of the greenhouse windows. 

If only Neville had any idea of the truth. 

‘I’m not gay, Longbottom, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Blaise managed to bite out. He instantly regretted his words when he saw the dull red blush that rose on Neville’s cheekbones. Neville moved away, turning back to the Venomous Tentacula. 

Neville had dated two boys during eighth year so far, Blaise knew.  Michael Corner, from Ravenclaw, had lasted from Halloween to the New Year, and Ernie Macmillan, from Hufflepuff, had lasted the two weeks either side of Valentine’s Day.

Not that Blaise had been paying attention.

He sighed now, hating the pangs of guilt that irritated his heart. 

‘I didn’t mean it like that, Longbottom,’ he said, as Neville hunched his shoulders slightly and kept his back turned. Blaise took a deep breath. ‘Actually, I’m not - I’m not interested in anyone. In  _ that _ way, I mean. I never have been.’

There was a pause of silence in which only the quiet fluttering of a thousand sentient leaves could be heard.

Neville turned back to Blaise, his golden brown eyes soft in the mellow afternoon light that streamed through the greenhouse windows. 

‘You mean dating? Romance?’ Neville paused and his eyes narrowed. ‘Sex?’ 

Blaise rolled his eyes upwards. He couldn’t believe he was finally having this conversation with someone, especially Neville Longbottom. He’d tried to tell both Draco and Theo about how he felt, but with them spending most of eighth year draped around Hermione Granger and Harry Potter respectively, Blaise could never quite get the words out.

Here though, in the peaceful sanctuary of the greenhouse, empty except for Blaise and Neville, he thought he might finally be able to admit it. 

‘It’s not that I don’t want to date someone, or - or - I don’t know, hold their hand or stroke their hair or whatever,’ Blaise said with an uncharacteristic rush of words. ‘It’s just… I don’t want to have sex. It’s not that I’m waiting for the right time, or the right person, or anything else that everyone says. I just don’t… feel it. Sexual attraction. Towards anyone.’

Blaise took a deep breath, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. If there was one thing you learned spending so many years in Slytherin surrounded by emotionally-repressed Purebloods, it was never to show your true face to anyone. 

He cringed inside, wishing he could take it back, as Neville regarded him silently. When Blaise finally dared to look up again, Neville had a strange look in his eyes. 

‘Blaise,’ he started, and Blaise looked up in surprise. He didn’t think Neville had ever said his given name before. He found he liked it, liked the way it sounded on Neville’s tongue. Neville continued, unperturbed. ‘Blaise, there’s nothing wrong with being asexual. You know that, right? You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone.’

Blaise gave him a desperate look. ‘How can you be so sure?’ He asked as his heart beat a furious tattoo in his chest. ‘I still want to feel romance, to find someone I love,’ he added, his voice getting higher, and Neville reached out and gently took his hand as he barrelled on. ‘How will I ever find anyone, Neville, if they know I’m never going to have sex with them?’

Neville dropped his hand and instead reached up to cradle Blaise’s face in his palms. ‘The right person is out there for you, Blaise. Someone who won’t pressure you or make you feel less. You just have to look.’

‘Look where, Longbottom?’ Blaise said desperately, but Neville just dropped his hands from Blaise’s face and gave him a small, sad smile. He turned back to his plants, moving on from the Tentacula to the Bubotuber. 

Blaise watched him, admiring those gentle hands again, as he carefully prodded the plant, avoiding the pustules, before picking up a small watering can and sprinkling it with water. The same hands that had felt comforting against Blaise’s cheeks just a moment ago, callused and rough with dirty fingernails.

‘Neville,’ Blaise said his name cautiously, as if still testing out its veracity against his tongue. ‘What are  _ you _ doing next weekend?’ 

Neville shot him a hard look. ‘What are you on about, Zabini?’ He asked gruffly. 

Blaise smiled, his Slytherin senses tasting nervousness on the air like a snake. ‘I was just wondering if maybe you’d like to come to Madam Puddifoot’s with me,’ he said as casually as he could manage. 

‘Me?’ Neville replied, disbelief painted across his face. There was something else there, too, something that Blaise couldn’t quite place.

‘You,’ Blaise confirmed, more serious than he had been for a long time. Something sparked in Neville’s eyes, and Blaise was finally able to place it.

Hope.

‘I thought you didn’t like guys,’ Neville said now, his cheeks flushing red again. Blaise smiled and reached down for Neville’s beautiful hand, stroking the calloused pads of Neville’s fingers.

‘I like you,’ Blaise said, simply. ‘Have for quite some time. And now you know what to expect… what I’m able to give you. If it’s enough…’ He left his words dangling in the still, humid air, suddenly afraid that maybe he had misread all of it. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be enough?

Neville reached for Blaise’s other hand and faced him, letting his forehead fall and lean against Blaise’s. 

‘Blaise Zabini,’ Neville said with a small laugh. ‘You are more than enough. More than I could ever have hoped for.’

They stayed like that, leaning against each other, for a few silent moments, then Blaise shifted under Neville’s touch and Neville took a step back. He went to release Blaise’s hands, but Blaise held on a little tighter.

‘Is that a yes, Longbottom?’ He asked with a smirk, and Neville rolled his eyes and groaned. 

‘ _ Yes _ , that’s a yes,  _ Zabini _ ,’ he sighed, far too loud and exasperated to be genuine. When he looked back at Blaise, sure enough there was a sparkle in his golden eyes. ‘You’re going to keep me on my toes, I can tell.’

Blaise gave him a wicked grin.

‘I certainly am, Longbottom. I hope you’re ready for the ride.’


End file.
